


Kidding Around

by Jerevinan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Comedy, Crack, Goats, Humor, Husbands, M/M, Prompto loves animals, domestic life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 02:50:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12925731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerevinan/pseuds/Jerevinan
Summary: Gladiolus is about ninety percent certain he sees a goat in his backyard. Only ninety because it’s before his morning coffee, and why would there be a goat there? He squints and bends closer toward the window above the sink.Nope. Definitely a fucking goat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this weeks ago, thanks to Penguin giving me the idea. (But I don't remember the conversation, haha.)
> 
> It's short. I'm almost done with the second chapter, and then that'll be it. Enjoy?

Gladiolus is about ninety percent certain he sees a goat in his backyard. Only ninety because it’s before his morning coffee, and why would there be a goat there? He squints and bends closer toward the window above the sink. 

Nope. Definitely a fucking goat.

“Hey, Prompto! What’s a goat doing in our—” 

Prompto glances up from his breakfast, mouth wide open and oatmeal dripping from his spoon.

“Oh shit. I forgot.”

“Forgot _what_ exactly?”

“Well, I sort of picked her up when I saw her wandering around Leide. I didn’t want the sabertusks to get her, so I brought her home.”

“When?”

“Last night. Coming home from taking those new pics of Hammerhead for Cindy.”

Gladiolus had told Prompto to go without him. It would be fine, Prompto could handle the drive alone. It was his gig, after all, not Gladiolus’. Why did he need to be there?

Well, even if he had gone with Prompto, no doubt his animal loving husband would have shot him the puppy eyes. Who can resist those? Gladiolus always _says_ he can, but that’s a behemoth-sized lie. They have one half-blind cat, three dogs, half a dozen rabbits, and a mouthy parrot all because Prompto couldn’t leave them. Gladiolus had been present for the adoption of every single one. Did he exercise his freedom to say no? Shake his head? No. Now they have a houseful, and Gladiolus only regrets the parrot.

Still, a goat wasn’t a house pet.

“Thought you were just helping Cindy with her advertising pics. You weren’t supposed to bring back a goat.”

“And leave her out there? Sabertusks, Gladio! _Sabertusks!_ ” Prompto makes wide, indistinctive hand gestures as his voice rises octaves. “That’s cruel, and even you wouldn’t have left her. Besides, the dogs don’t mind her!”

“The dogs knew before I did?” Gladiolus needs more than coffee—he could use a few shots of Lestallum’s finest whiskey. Luckily, the pot has finished brewing. He pours a cup and stirs in some sugar.

“The dogs met her when I brought her in last night.” Prompto sets down his spoon and stares guiltily into his bowl. “Her name is—” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve already named her.”

Prompto turns to the nearest animal—their cat, Rutherford, who occupies the chair next to him—and sighs. “Daddy’s grumpy this morning, isn’t he?” He reaches out to stroke Rutherford, and the feline lifts one of his paws and bats at Prompto’s hand. “He doesn’t want to meet his new daughter.”

Gladiolus might be fine being “Daddy” to the dogs and cat, but he has already declared war on the damn parrot, and the rabbits keep biting his toes when they’re let loose from their pen. 

“That’s ‘cos Daddy woke up to a strange _kid_ in the backyard.” Gladiolus smirks into his coffee mug. Ignis is the one who comes up with the better puns; that one is unimaginative. 

Shit. Ignis.

Prompto grins at Gladiolus—he’s not sure if it’s the joke or something else—but Gladiolus shakes his head.

“You ain’t keeping a goat. Once Ignis finds out, he’ll hound you to find a new home. Farm animals are illegal in city limits. ‘Cept chickens. I think.” Gladiolus doesn’t have all the laws memorized, but he’s confident there’s something about not having the space and bothering next door neighbors written in the lawbooks _somewhere_. Even keeping chickens has to be illegal. They’re noisy, like all birds. “Not like we have the means for a goat.”

Prompto deflates in his seat, and Rutherford takes the opportunity to crawl into his lap and start stealing oatmeal out of his bowl. “But I’ve already named her.”

“Does that mean if you hadn’t named the parrot, we could’ve rehomed him?”

Gladiolus hears the fucking avian monster start up his usual cheeky banter from his perch in the office. 

“Levi home! Levi hungry!”

“You know he came with the name,” says Prompto, narrowing his eyes.

“Leviathan fits the little jerk—maybe we should drop him in Altissia’s waters, where he belongs.” Gladiolus would love for Rutherford to gain half an interest in bird watching and eat the damn thing, but the cat will watch mice eat from his food dish. Not to mention that Prompto has the room barred so the dogs and cat can’t enter and bother Levi or the rabbits.

The bird being in there tends to keep Gladiolus out, too. 

Prompto pouts. “How could you say that about one of our children?”

“We have four, Prom. Four.” Gladiolus holds up four fingers just to be sure Prompto understands the number that much more. “Rutherford.” He gestures to the cat on Prompto’s lap. “Wally.” He points to the gray fluffy terrier mix who occupies the dog bed in the corner. At the sound of his name, Wally lifts his head up hopefully. “Stardust.” He nods his head toward the sliding glass door rug, where a giant black dog snoozes. “And Anastasia. Who more than likely stole our bed now that I’m out.”

“Her name is Periwinkle.”

Gladiolus nearly chokes on his next sip of coffee. _A flower name?_

“We can call her Peri for short!”

“We’re not keeping her.” Gladiolus tries not to look at Prompto’s face, because his resolve will falter if he sees those wide, hopeful eyes. “Prom. You know I love you. I love that you love animals. I wouldn’t want to be with someone who leaves goats to sabertusks. But we can’t keep her.”

“Why not?”

“It’s illegal, for one. Secondly, do we know anything about goats? What kind of veterinarian do we take her to if she gets sick? What if she’s sick with something and we don’t know the signs because she’s not a dog or a cat—something we’re familiar with. Other than grass, what do goats need to eat?”

Prompto goes quiet, and Gladiolus thinks his words have gotten through. He takes a sip of his coffee and glances over at his partner. Prompto strokes Rutherford’s fur, head dipped enough that he must be hiding that he’s about to cry.

Crap. Gladiolus wishes he hadn’t been so harsh.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be insensitive.”

“No, you’re right.”

“I know I’m right, I just wish I’d said it better.” Gladiolus wraps his arms around Prompto from behind and takes a sip of his coffee. “We can keep her around until we find a home for her. We’ll call Cindy and see if she knows anyone who keeps goats.”

“Cindy knows everyone.”

“Exactly. Until then, you should look up what goats eat and find a veterinarian so we can assess her general health.” Gladiolus uses his free hand to pat Prompto’s arm. “I’ll cover it, if you want me to.”

There’s a long pause before Prompto reluctantly says, “Okay. Thank you.”

Gladiolus rewards Prompto with a kiss to the top of his head. At least Prompto understands. Maybe someday, he can talk him into rehoming Levi next. He loves the dogs and cat, and even the rabbits are fine, but anything beyond that is beyond Gladiolus’ understanding and patience.

 

~*~

 

Gladiolus comes home from work to see Prompto busy at the computer with a stack of books next to his laptop. Prompto is wearing his glasses, too—a look Gladiolus is fond of, but seldom gets the pleasure of seeing. 

Gladiolus glances at the spines of the books. _How to Care for Goats. Domesticated Goats. Goat Keeping for Morons._

Prompto throws an arm around the books and draws them closer to his chest. He stares up at Gladiolus with wide eyes. 

“I called Cindy.”

Gladiolus peers at the computer screen. Prompto has a flyer with Periwinkle’s picture pulled up on an editing program, with information about the goat, where it was found, and how to contact him. 

“It’s for the few days we’ll have her, right?” asks Gladiolus, taking hold of the books and setting them firmly back in place. “I get it. Just make sure it isn’t too long.”

“I found a vet, too. Got an appointment tomorrow morning.”

“Good. How are you sending out the flyers?”

“Email and texts, and Cindy says she’ll print some out and post them around Hammerhead. Well, once I finish the flyer. Took forever to get a good pic of Peri.”

Gladiolus takes another, longer look at the picture Prompto has used. It isn’t merely a photo. It has gone through doctoring, and a few little sparkly flowers have been added to the picture.

“Why is Peri wearing a woven crown of flowers?” Those are not altered into the photo. “Are those from the garden?”

“Yeah! Hope it’s okay.”

It isn’t, but what can Gladiolus do about it now?

“She ate it afterward.”

A part of him wishes Peri suffers a case of indigestion, but then he would be paying for it tomorrow morning at the vet’s. His dad gave him the flower bulbs from a garden the Amicitias have been tending for over a century. But it’s not worth getting upset about. They’ll have other blooms, and they’ll grow back fuller next year, as long as Prompto doesn’t find anymore goats.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad people enjoyed the first chapter. I'm always worried about my sense of humor, you guys...are the best! 
> 
> Here's the final chapter, feel free to let me know what you think. C:

It takes five whole days and countless eaten shirts—all Gladiolus’, never Prompto’s—before someone calls on Periwinkle. A Cleigne farmer says she would be willing to take the goat on if no one claims her. Prompto mopes about the house afterward and spends more time than usual with the hooved beast, who has already torn up half the flowerbeds despite being kept on the other side of the garden fence. 

Gladiolus is more than ready to hand over the hooved daemon to someone else.

But seeing Prompto bummed out in turn affects Gladiolus, and he sits with Wally and Stardust curled up beside him for hours, trying to think of some way to comfort his saddened husband. 

It comes to him hours later, as they’re going to bed, even if it isn’t agreeing to keep Peri. He _can’t_ offer that, since Noctis blabbed about how awesome Periwinkle was to Ignis, and Ignis has hounded them since to make sure they find suitable accommodations for the goat within two weeks before he is forced to take action.

They pull back the comforter and fluff pillows, and Gladiolus says, very carefully, “I’ll drive you out there. Check the place out. Make sure they’re actually gonna take care of her.”

Prompto’s face brightens, if only marginally. “Really?”

“Yeah. Not taking her to someplace she might get mistreated.”

Prompto leaps onto the mattress and flings his arms around Gladiolus’ neck. “Thanks, Gladio!”

Gladiolus sighs, but can’t help but lean in for the peppering of grateful kisses Prompto leaves on his cheeks, nose, and lips. 

“I love you,” says Prompto. “You’re the best. Thanks for letting me keep a goat and not telling Ignis.”

Gladiolus decides it’s best not to mention that Ignis does in fact know, all thanks to a certain prince who can’t keep his mouth shut. 

~*~

The drive to the country is long enough without a stubborn goat coming along. Periwinkle refuses to get into the car, no matter how many treats they use to try to lure her in.

“She didn’t give me this much trouble when I picked her up!” Prompto dangles an apple slice over the car seat. “Come on, Peri! You can do it. I’m sorry we have to do this, but you’ll have lots of goat friends where we’re going!”

Gladiolus finally lifts the goat in his arms and gets nipped for his efforts. He ignores it and sets Periwinkle in the backseat, where she then begins to make loud baaing noises and kick at the seats the entire ride to Cleigne. All five hours of it.

Gladiolus can’t even hear himself think, and it takes almost no time at all to develop a headache. He’s pretty sure Peri is only kicking _his_ seat and leaving Prompto alone. It’s even worse when he needs to focus on driving. Prompto doesn’t help matters. He turns in his seat to check on Periwinkle every five minutes.

“Peri, it’s okay. You’ll get to go to your new home!”

“Gladio, I swear she didn’t do this the first time.” (Of course she didn’t. Gladiolus wasn’t in the car then, and it was to come destroy an unsuspecting household, not leave it for someplace goat-proofed.)

“Peri, want me to sing to you?”

“I’m sorry, Peri, this is for the best.”

Gladiolus makes him swing into a store on the way out to the farm so he can buy earplugs. That ends most of his suffering, but he can still feel hooves thump the back of his chair every once in a while.

It’s not too soon when they see a sign for the farm. Five hours of driving, and they can finally check out the new potential home. It’ll be the worst thing Gladiolus has ever done if it turns out this place isn’t the right one for Periwinkle. 

The lane leading up to the property is paved with cement, making it easier to reach the main house. There is a double fence between the road and the meadow. Not too far from the house is a massive barn, as clean as any farm animal will allow. A few patches of mud where the grass has been eaten and worn down encircle the barn, and some goats linger there. They look healthy and normal, and they munch on hay while a pair of kids plays on a bench. A few goats rub their gums along the fence posts. Clean water fills several troughs nearby.

“It’s looking good so far,” says Gladiolus approvingly as he takes off his seat belt. He rolls down all the windows with a press of the button to give Peri some fresh air.

The owner steps out of the barn and waves to them. After going through a couple of gates, the small woman steps up and holds out a hand. Gladiolus gives it a firm shake, while Prompto gives her a weak nod.

“So you’re the ones who found a poor goat wandering around Leide?”

“Prom did,” says Gladiolus, nodding towards his husband. “Mind if we take a look around?”

“Sure! Come along.”

The inside of the barn is huge, and a couple of women are cleaning out some of the smellier portions as best they can. Fresh hay is everywhere—it sets Gladiolus off into a sneezing fit. He darts outside to breathe in fresh air, but it isn’t much of an improvement. His allergies have no mercy.

Goats follow him everywhere he walks, taking nips at his pockets and at the hem of his shirt. 

“I don’t have any treats,” he grumbles. 

Prompto comes out of the barn a few minutes later, grinning. “Let’s get Peri out of the car. She’ll love it here!”

“Better than a garden?”

“Yes!”

“I’ll have to keep her separate from the others until she’s fully introduced to the herd,” says the woman. “I showed Prompto where she’ll be staying until she gets to know the others.”

Periwinkle is only slightly more persuaded to get out of the car than to get in. It should’ve taken less time, Gladiolus thinks, for a goat so unhappy to have been in a car at all.

In the backseat, scattered across the upholstery, Gladiolus finds the remains of several novels that Periwinkle ripped up while left unattended. Shit, he should have moved them out of the pockets behind the seats. One is a cheap bodice ripper, but the other two are history texts that he will have to pay a lot of money to replace.

“Not going to miss you, goat,” he mutters to her as he’s hauling her out of the backseat and onto the grass. 

Gladiolus doesn’t miss the evil glint in her eyes. Couldn’t leave her to the sabertusks? No, he’s sure Prompto couldn’t leave her _with_ the sabertusks.


End file.
